


You're falling apart, Sixer.

by biteinsane



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Gen, He just like scratches himself to bring himself back, Mentions of Blood, but he's not here, lost sense of reality, mentions of cipher, minor self-harm, not sure if it really counts but put it in there just in case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-11 04:29:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8953681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biteinsane/pseuds/biteinsane
Summary: Sometimes you need that reminder. Sometimes you need that interaction.Sometimes you are too broken for either and it's all in your head.Maybe that's all you need.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I forgot humans need to eat *finger guns* so have me projecting my experiences on others.
> 
> Stress does things.
> 
> Also heads up, cause I might try to mention it more, I HC Ford with the same eye problems I have! So Ford has floaters and hypertension! Something someone of Ford's age should not have but here we are! Cause I am also too young to have it and I'm around Ford's age here! Nice. 
> 
> Love ya!  
> ~Mo

He was shaking. Oh god, why was he shaking? He could feel his whole body trembling as he fumbled with just getting his shirt buttoned up.

Stanford was in front of the mirror. Just the small mirror in his bathroom. He woke up on the tile floor for probably the 3rd time in the last 2 days. Ford could feel a sting on his cheek so he guessed he fell this time around and he didn't want to see the scrap that that probably runs across the left side of his face.

He watched as the reflection's six-fingered hands fumbled terribly with a button only to realize that it didn't match up. Grumbling, Ford tried again with shaking hands.

_"You gotta take better care of yourself, Sixer."_

Ford spun around so fast that he had to grab onto to the sink. He looked around frantically trying to find the source. _Sixer, Sixer, Sixer._ The last word echoed in his mind. He ran a hand through his hair trying to breathe normally.

"You're awake. You're awake. You're awake." He whispered to himself. "I-I-I think I am awake..." He dug his nails into his arm until he saw a small line of blood reach the surface. He sighed with a sort of relief.

The slight sting of a new scratches brought him back to his senses as he made his way out of the bathroom. Ford's hands gripped the side of the door to regain his balance before continuing. He looked down the hallway toward the stairs and turned toward his bedroom.

He didn't want to deal with the stairs again.

He wasn't sure he'd be able to get back up this time.

The room was just as messy as he remembered it last. Has it ever been cleaned? Maybe when he first moved in but it probably took an hour for it be covered in papers.

Kicking aside books that were in front of his closet, Ford rummage through it for some not as dirty clothes as what was already on him. He can't remember the last time he took a shower so he could only guess the last time he changed his clothes. 

There was a shirt still on a hanger. On the floor while on the hanger, but probably cleaner than anything else. 

Ford quickly discarded the button shirt for a shirt that didn't require his fingers fumbling for buttons or zippers. He was not going to look at the small mirror hanging on the closet door. He wasn't going to see any of the new scars that he no doubt had.

He saw the blood on the shirt he took off.

The shirt felt stiff and smelled a bit of smoke when he slipped it on. Sighing, Ford sat on his bed knocking over some papers. He stared at them for a few seconds before reaching to pick them up. What was the last thing he was working on? Before...before shit hit the fan...

He squinted trying to get it into focus but the numbers seemed to dance across the page. Letters would switch places. The past researcher's notes made no sense to the same man reading them only a few days later. 

_"You need to sleep, Stanford."_

He jumped. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he tried to catch it before paper hit the ground. The voice was back. _Shit, shit, shit._

Ford looked around just like before for any sign but there wasn't one. Colors were still the same. Nothing out of the corner of his eye, that he couldn't put off being floaters, was out of the ordinary. Everything looked the same.

Maybe Stanford Pines was finally losing his mind. He kind of wished it was that easy.

He looked down at the papers once again but just couldn't focus on one word before disregarding it with the pile of other forgotten formulas. The man pushed himself up from the bed to slowly make his way to the stairs.

If he can stay awake for a few more seconds, he can make it down. If he can just keep himself steady for a minute, he won't fall.

He took a deep breathe before he turned the corner to the stairs. Hesitating for a second, Ford slowly descended. A six-fingered hand using the wall as a brace while the other tried for a grip on the railing. Ford did not take his eyes off his feet fearing any wrong move could end in pain.

When he got to ground level he sat down on the stairs laughing to himself. He pulled off his glasses to drag a hand down his face. If he did finally lose it, maybe he'll just wake up in some padded room with limbs shackled to the bed. He welcomes the idea if it means he can leave this nightmare. Maybe he could finally put his mind at ease.

The scientist stared down at the glasses in his hands rubbing his thumb across the glass. He wasn't entirely sure how he could still see out of them. They were smudged and covered in skin cells and whatever that stuff was that stuck to them. Ford couldn't even remember the last time he went to an eye doctor. He knew his eyes have gotten worse and it wasn't because of a need of a new prescription. He was grateful the right eye wasn't bleeding this time around.

Ford wiped the glasses on his shirt hoping to get most of junk off before putting them back on. He took a glance out the window. 

The last he remembered it was dark and now it was bright outside. He was grateful he far enough away from the window to avoid blinding himself.

He pushed himself off the step to make his way to the kitchen. He gritted his teeth when he noticed the door to the basement was open but he tried to pay it no mind. That could be dealt with later and Ford really didn't want to think about how that relates to him waking up on the bathroom floor. There was too much to think about to even starting thinking about why he was upstairs.

Instead, he made a beeline for the coffee machine.

There were... _experiments_ floating in the pot. He winced as he poured the them down the drain and cleaned it out. Luckily the coffee bag and filters were on the counter probably from the last time he made coffee. It had to be days ago judging by the coffee pot. How did he make it as long as he did?

Was he even awake the whole time?

Ford shivered at the thought of losing that much time, but he couldn't remember the last time he was at ground level in his home.  _Not thinking about it. Not thinking about it._

So he waited for the coffee staring at the machine willing it to go faster. It was like when he was a teenager, glaring at the ancient machine early hoping that directing morning anger at it could make the coffee brew faster. It never did, but it's not like he was a morning person anyway.

 _Stan would get a kid out of this._ Ford chuckled to himself.

_"You wouldn't be this way if you actually took care of yourself, Stanford."_

Ford stiffened at the voice but he didn't turn. It had to be all in his head. Bill found a way to mess with him when he was awake. That was the only logical explanation.

At least it wasn't just laughing in the back of his head like it usually was. Oh god, how he hated that laugh. That childish laugh that seemed to bounce off walls and sent chills through his spine.

 _"Ya listening to me, Sixer?"_ The voice brought Ford back from his thoughts. Was the voice still talking? Can it do that?

The scientist tried to listen closely to hear anything, but the voice was silent. The whole house was filled with silence and Ford was becoming uneasy until he heard birds chirping excitedly outside. He let out the breathe he was holding before pushing himself to find a clean mug.

He missed getting the coffee in the cup twice before finally sitting down at the kitchen table to sip at his fresh coffee.

Ford noticed he was still shaking as he stared at his six-fingered hand before running it through his hair.

_"When did you last eat?"_

"What?" He said aloud without a thought.

 _"When did you last eat, dumbass?"_ Ford could almost hear the eye roll.

"I eat fine, Stanley." 

It was like everything clicked into place right then. Ford quickly jumped up knocking over the chair looking around frantically. Stanley was here? When did he get here? How did Ford not notice? Was he here the whole time? When did Ford invite him in?

He wasn't sure where to turn to. Where to start looking for his twin.

"S-Stanley?" He whispered.

There was another silence that filled the empty room before birds started their chirping nonsense again.

Ford moved to the doorway slowly looking out. "Stanley?" There was no response. He wasn't expecting a response but he felt like there should have been.

For a small second, he had a hope.

Then he realized and all the hope left him. Ford put his back to the wall and let himself slide down. All doubts that he wasn't losing his mind is now out the window. 

Maybe the smart thing to do was to just...

"No." He said firmly. "No." He wasn't going to let his thoughts stray that far.

He pulled his knees up and let his fingers tap at them until he noticed his hands were still shaking. That voice might not have been Stanley, but it was right about eating. He couldn't remember the last time he ate, but he couldn't remember when he last took a shower either.

So he picked himself up with the minimal of a groan and went back into the kitchen.

There had to be at least bread.


End file.
